We slowly cruised the parking lot, admiring the buildings and snapping pics, when someone whistled to get our attention. An older man came walking over, and because I live in a large, exciting urban environment, I naturally assumed his intention was to soundly beat us. But he couldn't have been nicer, and wanted to know if we were looking for a guest he could help us find. He identified himself not as the manager, but a friend of the manager who was just looking after the place for a while. That's small-town, and I would do good to remember my own small-town roots, where you trust people first, and frantically scan for escape routes second.
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